Lost Love, New Love
by Bananacakes
Summary: Desmond is depressed because he can't get to his love. However, when Desmond gets drunk, some people don't like it. And then like him a lot. DISCLAIMER: I do not own LOST. if i did, I would be a very happy druggie.


Season 2, when Desmond gets back from desperately trying to find civilization. I don't particularly like Penny, and my friend absolutely adores him, so……… Go ahead, be a genius, put two and two together. Burn me if you want, but that's how it's going to be. Lots and lots of fluffy bunnies. PS. LOST writers suck, Charlie shouldn't have died.

Desmond took another swig from the bottle. The wine was kind of stale, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, but he didn't care anymore. He had tried, tried as hard as he could to get back to Penny, but this damn island was in his path no matter where he turned. He had just about had enough of life, fate, and the universe, whatever. He turned the bottle upside down and tipped the rest into his throat. Then he chucked it as far as he could, which wasn't far exactly considering he was kind of drunk.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree that was behind him. Suicide wasn't an option, he'd never even thought about it. _Yeah, but I'm so much of a coward why don't I? Isn't it considered the easy way out?_ That would prove everybody right. He slapped himself mentally. _Stop it Desmond, you've got to pull yourself together. Don't you have a purpose in this world? I did, but who cares about the world anymore?_ He sighed, very depressed.

The bottle had landed a few feet away from a makeshift tent built a little ways down from the other tents. It was made from a blue tarp hung over a tree branch and anchored in place by stones on either side. A rough airplane blanket was strung across the entrance, providing a crude door. It was pulled back when the bottle hit the sand to reveal a very tired castaway. Her frizzy long blonde hair was tangled around her face and she was wearing a dirty green t-shirt with a goat on it. Her jeans had a hole in them at the knee and she looked pissed off. She pushed back the blanket and stormed outside.

Grabbing the bottle, she walked the ten feet that was between her and the guy who looked dead and stopped right in front of him. He didn't stir. He was frowning, but still breathing. The girl nudged his foot. He didn't move. She leaned over him and poked him roughly in the shoulder. He opened his eyes and blinked. "What do you want?" He said in a thick Scottish accent. The girl glared at him, and then shoved the bottle in his face. "Don't go chucking things when people are trying to sleep! Not all of us have time to drink and have fun you know."

Desmond tried to push himself up, but failed and fell against the tree, hitting his head. "What do you mean, no time? We're on a bloody island with no chance of being rescued! You have all the time in the world." The girl shot sparks from her eyes and threw the bottle down in between his thighs, a little too close for comfort. Desmond winced and pulled himself up, his abdomen muscles burning. "Hey, please don't neuter me with a wine bottle girl, I'm just sitting here."

The girl just walked away and went back into her tent. Desmond rested his elbows against his knees, staring at the empty bottle. Maybe that doctor guy knew where he could get some more. He obviously needed to get drunker than he already was to drown out reality.

Later that night, Desmond was on his third bottle of the day. He gulped down the alcohol, not caring what it tasted like as long as he got it in him. He set it down in the sand and looked around. Everything was spinning and fuzzy. There was campfires set up around the tents, each person or groups of people to a fire. Desmond was leaning against a tree closer to the camp. He had gotten the wine from a guy named Sawyer who had asked him for his gun to trade. Desmond handed it over gladly, he didn't need it anymore. He was too lazy to walk back to his original tree, so he had plopped down at this one. It was sturdier than the other.

Beth walked over to the food table. She grabbed a mango and bit into it, letting the juice run onto her shirt. Heck, it was dirty anyway, so what was the point of trying to keep it clean? She was in kind of a bad mood, partially because she hadn't been able to get to sleep after her confrontation with the drunk Scottish guy. She had asked around and found out that his name was Desmond and apparently he had been found in the mysterious "hatch" that all the important people had been sneaking off to for the past couple of weeks. She glanced around at all the different campfires people had set up around the beach.

Suddenly, she noticed someone slumped against a tree on the edge of the campfire circle. She looked closer and noticed the bottle in the sand beside him. _Dammit, not again_, she thought to herself. She finished her mango, and marched over to Desmond. He lifted his head when she got close to him and smiled. "You want to finish the job?" he said, motioning to his crotch. Beth rolled her eyes and grabbed the bottle from his hand. "Hey, what are you…" He protested, grabbing feebly for the wine. "I think that's enough for you, I can't stand people being drunk and you're far past it." She said, pointedly.

Desmond leaned back against the tree. "So why do you care about me? I'm nothing special. The world doesn't save itself you know! So I had to. And you know where that led me?" He grabbed a handful of dirt and poured it over his knee. "Right here." He chuckled, and then started laughing hysterically, moving from side to side in a drunken stupor. Beth grabbed his arm and pulled him up. He leaned against her, his entire weight pulling her down. "Alright Mr. Save The World, let's get you sober."

She dragged him to her tent, him stumbling along behind her arm around her neck. She pushed back her curtain-door and laid him on her bed. Desmond was asleep the instant she put him down. She turned; to go find someone she could sleep with, and felt him grab her ankle weakly. She looked back at Desmond, lying still on the blankets. "You're pretty." He whispered. Beth rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's what you say tonight when you're way out of it." Then she walked down the beach searching for a temporary home.

A couple days later, Desmond went looking for the girl who had helped him. The day after the night he had been so drunk he couldn't remember anything; he had gotten out of someone's bed with his head pounding. The hangover had gone on for that day and into the next. He had not been well enough to find the girl and thank her. But he was better now.

Desmond made his way through the camp asking people if they had seen a long blonde haired girl around the beach. One person said he could find her near Cassandra and Anna's tent. He didn't know where that was, so they gave him directions. He had walked past the food table when he spotted her. She was tying rope together for something and humming something under her breath. He walked over and stood in her light until she looked up at him, covering her eyes from the sun.

"Hello, what do you want?" Desmond moved to her front so she could see him and shuffled his feet. "I just wanted to say, thank you for letting me use your tent." Beth grinned. "Your welcome. I'm glad you're sober. I think people are much better when they're sober, don't you?" She raised her eyebrow at him, trying to make a point. Desmond shrugged. "Yeah, I guess…"

Beth stood and put the rope on the ground. She walked over to the food table and grabbed some… uh… food? Desmond followed her and picked up some imperishables himself. Beth leaned back against the table as Desmond picked out his lunch. He kept glancing at her, noticing how pretty she was… and looking very stern. "What?" He said. She said nothing, but chewed her fruit. Desmond grabbed an apple and bit into it.

They were quiet for a few minutes, then Desmond turned to face her. "You know, I've been thinking about it and I've decided that I've spent too much time being drunk lately." Beth grinned. "So, you couldn't figure that out by yourself?" Desmond turned his body towards her and leaned in. "I'm as stupid as I look." He smiled. Beth looked a bit uncomfortable, but they were both frozen in that position. Desmond leaned in closer, then gently pressed his lips against hers. He pulled away and looked into her eyes.

The expression on her face was hard to tell, but it was somewhere in between estatic joy and complete shock. She closed her eyes and kissed him. They both pulled away and looked at each other. They didn't say a word, but Desmond grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close to him, kissing her fervently. And he wasn't thinking of Penny.


End file.
